A Hobbit's Tale
by Calla Mae
Summary: From the unread pages of There and Back Again; the story of Bilbo's first adventure, of his greatest. The story of his wife.
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

_My dear Frodo. You asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures. And while I can honestly say I've told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it. You see, it did not start that day when Gandalf first introduced himself to me. It did not start even that year, many many years before actually. It started quite suddenly one day, when I was younger even than you and had but spare thoughts of finding a wife. Until suddenly I was in love with a girl I had known almost all my life, and never had I dreamt of the hold she had always had over my heart. As you know I was married, I still feel that I am though she is with me no longer. I regret greatly you were never graced with meeting her, she was by far the loveliest hobbit in all of Hobbiton. Perhaps even all the Shire, though I must confess I am more than a little biased._

_Primrose Smallburrow, a name as lovely as she. So kind was she not even Thorin Oakenshield could offer ill word, and that my dear boy is a feat I have seen no other do. And he was in her presence no more than a few hours! A splendid feat, a superb victory mind you for Thorin was a very sullen dwarf though I suppose he had enough cause. Had it not been for her I rightly believe I never would have partaken in Thorin's quest. I had not the bravery nor the belief that I could follow after them, but she believed in me and that was all I needed. I must admit, it was all I would come to face in helping Thorin reclaim his home that gave me the courage to profess my love. And it was her sweet face that would call me home the long days I was away._

_It has taken me many years to realize she was my first adventure. And I can tell you honestly, with a heart unriddled by doubt, that she was and always will be the greatest adventure to which I ever embarked._

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So this is an idea I had, and it will be a Bilbo OC story. I suppose mostly this story will be pure fluff, and adorableness cause it's Bilbo and he's adorable. And I won't actually go into the details of his time with Thorin's Company, I might do a chapter where it's split between her and him and show that they miss each other. But next chapter will be the actual start of the story, and I'm very excited to introduce my OC. If a lot of people review I have been known to undate everyday. So please tell me if you are interested. Thank you very much for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

_I. I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue/__Anyway the thing is what I really mean/__Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

Bilbo did not know when he had fallen in love with Primrose, if there was a specific day or if he had always loved her. July 14th, the day he would always remember as when he knew he loved her. After the passing of decades he would not recall the year, but the day was forever etched in his heart for it was the day he married her.

But he could not, nor would he ever, know when he first loved her. One day she was the pretty girl with the curly blonde hair and strange eyes, the bright smile and the sweet birdsong of a voice; and then the next he was in love. His stomach had churned, his face flushed bright and hot, his eyes could not tear themselves away from her face. And that was how he knew though nothing would come of it for years.

They had played together as children, though she was younger than he, until he grew more interested in stories and she in helping with her family's farm. And even then he saw her most everyday, returning her smile and her wave, many times stopping for a few moments to try whatever she had helped harvest before making his way either home or to the trees. More often than not, if not reading or listening to traveller's tales he would be found in the trees or by the river throwing stones. He had taught her to throw stones, had talked to her and told a joke or two, had chased her and scooped her up when he caught making her laugh as loudly as he; had looked at her, had spoken with her, had touched her, innocently. Until suddenly it wasn't.

He could not speak to her without his body flushing and his face turning red, stumbling over words that had before come easily. Could not stand behind her and hold her arm as he tried to show her how she should throw a stone, not without the fear she would hear his heart pounding in his chest as it tried to scream the feelings he kept trapped on his tongue behind his clenched teeth. He could hardly look at her without blushing, could barely stand to have her shoulder against his as they stood or sat side by side without feeling that simple touch buzzing beneath his skin and warming him completely. And for all of this, he was afraid she would see through him and laugh. Laugh as many of the other hobbits did when they followed his gaze, jesting they would charm her before he ever could. Most of the boys, now growing into men, offered her flowers or cloth to make a dress, or anything they thought pretty; and she smiled and accepted them all, crushing their dreams of courting her with the grace only the kindest of hearts could.

These are things Bilbo would have done, gifting her with pretty things to show his affections, and many a time he had tried; but he did not have the courage to do it, it was hard enough for him to string a sentence together without sounding a fool. Or as he thought. If he could see inside Primrose's mind for even a moment his heart would have soared and he might have danced for joy. Never would he have thought she smiled her way out of every offer of courting for she was waiting for him to ask. Never would he have dreamed she felt her own face grow warm at his presence, or that butterflies danced wildly in her belly at his touch. Without knowing it he gave her several little gifts, ones that caught her already captured heart and left her waiting with earnest patience for him to ask for her hand. She knew he would someday, she saw it in his shy smiles, his reddened cheeks, his fumbled words, his warm eyes.

...

"Can you tell me one of your stories?" she asked him one day, a day as any other when they sat by river, him having thrown stones and her having watched and clapped as his stone skipped all the way across.

"What one?" he asked as he sat beside where she lay, feeling her shoulder against his leg, her touch scorching him though he dared not move away. He watched her as she thought, seeing her lips press together as she stared at the sky. He never knew which eye he thought more beautiful, the blue one or the green. Many hobbits found it unsettling when first faced with her eyes, something that made her smile bashfully and nearly apologize for her uniqueness. Something Bilbo did not understand for he thought her the most beautiful of all the hobbits, even his mother. For there was a light in her eyes, a love for life that was catching and made her all the more lovely. And so when she turned her eyes on him and he was faced with looking back and forth between them as a hand squeezed his heart making it all but impossible for him to breathe.

She felt a smile straining to spread on her lips as he looked at her, at his now pink cheeks. "One about the elves," she answered softly, feeling the urge to fiddle with her fingers at the weight of his eyes.

_They are not as beautiful as you,_ he might have told her had he the nerve. But Bilbo was a simple hobbit, a quiet young hobbit who found it hard enough to touch her for fear his hands would tell her what was in his heart. As it was he told her a story, one he had heard from a traveller, one that had excited him. Primrose enjoyed very much to watch his face as he told a story he greatly enjoyed, to see his hands make grand gestures, to see a spark in his eye as he spoke of the world and all the adventures that lay in it. If her own feelings for Bilbo had not been so obvious she might have been scolded for leaving her chores to spend time with him, but her mother would hush her father with a hard look and wave as Primrose left their farm. She could coax him into anything she liked, things Bilbo would not normally do on his own; her favorite thing was dancing. To jump and twirl and tap her feet to the beat of a song, and she loved it all the more when Bilbo timidly followed her movements. And he loved nothing more than the bright smile that painted her face after the song ended, the feel of her hand in his as he twirled her a last time; he wanted to spend the rest of his days simply holding her hand.

...

She was the only hobbit he wished to see after his parents died, to drown his sorrow and his pain in her smile. She did not visit him as often as he would have liked, as even she would have liked, for at the time she now worked at her family's farm and was either too busy or too tired. But she would go not one week without stopping by, no food to ease his suffering as many others brought him; instead she gave him warmth, kindness, love though he did not know it, and two capable hands who helped him clean the hobbit-hole that was now only his.

"What will you do now?" she asked him one night, months after his mother had followed his father, sitting on her knees and wiping her brow after they'd scrubbed the floor.

Bilbo looked at her and shrugged. "I don't think I know," he told her honestly, standing and helping her to her feet; realizing her hands fit snuggly in his own, realizing he could kiss her they were so close, realizing he could feel her breasts against his chest as she breathed - realizing all of this made the breath go out of him. "Would you like some tea?" he asked quickly, nearly panicking.

She smiled. "I would love some, thank you," she answered, sighing when he released her and rushed to the kitchen, having hoped he might actually kiss her; finding she was breathing deeper than she had moments before, still feeling his warm hands wrapped around hers.

...

These were their days, their months, their years. They saw each other nearly every day, Bilbo stopping by the farm, her visiting his home in Bag End. And each time the thought of leaning forward and capturing her mouth with his own plagued him, nagged him, demanded him to actually do it. Many of the hobbits that had once tried to court Primrose had found someone they loved more, and many weddings had she and Bilbo attended. And still she waited as patiently as she could, taking as much as he was brave enough to offer her until one day he could finally say he loved her. She knew he did, she did not need others to tell her though they did often; she saw it in his face, his eyes, heard it in his voice. It was he who did not know she loved him in return, and so he worried himself and talked himself out of ever telling her. And Primrose was starting to believe she might have to ask him if he would court her, thinking he may never get up the courage to ask her himself. Until one day everything changed, their lives irrevocably altered. And it all began, with a visitor.

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_song is Your Song by Elton John_

_Thank you all so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews; they all mean so much to me, and they really made my day. The actress I'm picturing for Primrose is Alice Eve, who has one blue eye and one green so I've incorporated that into the story. Also when I'm describing Primrose and how she looks, and how pretty she is, or later her body, I will be describing Alice. I would like to have a nickname for Primrose, and I do think Prim is a very cute nickname I have a friend who has the same name and I call her Prim - so let me do the Hunger Games shoutout for all of you fans, yes Prim was in the book. And no, I will not talk about her anymore. If you've read the last book then you understand why. Thank you all again, and I hope you're still enjoying it._


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello," Primrose greeted with a friendly smile to the tall aged man as he walked down the path from Bilbo's house; the path she now turned to.

The man smiled and nodded a greeting. "Have a delightful day," he said kindly as he continued on his way.

Primrose looked after him a moment, brows knitted and thoughts turning, before she shook her head and continued to Bilbo's home. She waited several moments after she knocked on the door, growing concerned when there was no answer. "Bilbo?" she called knocking again. She only had the chance to gasp when the door opened and she was pulled inside, her back pressed against a wall as Bilbo stood in front of her with an arm held out over her chest to protect her. "Bilbo Baggins, what on earth are you doing?" she asked him startled, needing to catch her breath after such an unwarranted fright.

Bilbo continued to stare at his door with wide eyes, stepping away from her only to peek out of the window by the door.

Primrose looked at him curiously. "Does this have anything to do with the man that just left?" she asked softly.

Bilbo turned to her with wide eyes. "You met Gandalf?" he asked incredulously, remembering the strange man with an even stranger request.

"Gandalf?" she questioned. "Is he the man who brings the fireworks?" she asked excitedly. "I do love the show. Is he doing them tonight"

Bilbo loved them as well. He loved to sit and look between the wondrous lights and the way they flickered on her beautiful smiling face. But, that is not what was on his mind that day. "No, he is not," he answered, casting a last look outside and sighing in relief that Gandalf was gone. And then he was left with Primrose's wondering face as she waited for more.

"Why did he stop by?" she asked him after he had sat her on his sofa and fetched her a cup of tea.

Bilbo looked at her briefly before dropping his gaze and taking a sip from his own cup. "He wanted to know if I would join him on an adventure," he told her staring unseeing at the space in front of him.

Her brows rose at that and she put the cup on the table before turning fully to him. "Well?" she asked after a few moments of silence, "what did you tell him?"

Bilbo looked at her astounded. "I told him no of course," he said firmly though his mind was turning the thought over in his head.

"Really?" she asked almost sadly, having loved Bilbo's inquiry to everything outside of the Shire; though he had become more reserved the last few years.

"But of course," he told her, sipping his tea uncomfortably – not wanting to show his interest in one for it would be looked down upon most severely. "No hobbit in their right mind would even consider it. Would you like me to take your cup?" he asked, rushing over his words as he tried to prove he was every bit the respectable hobbit as he was believed to be. Though Primrose had always seen through it, and he almost knew she did when she smiled.

"Thank you," she told him sweetly, making him laugh bashfully as he took their cups to the sink. "Did you hear Lobelia Sackville-Baggins has demanded Hyacinth Took lock up her son," she said much to Bilbo's relief, no longer speaking of uncomfortable things such as adventures.

"Isn't Paladin only ten?" Bilbo asked with a small chuckle, Lobelia being more than a handful; and she had her sharp eyes aimed at Bag End.

Primrose smiled and nodded. "He apparently gets into her garden," she answered laughing lightly. "To listen to Hyacinth talk to my mother. She said Lobelia had chased Paladin with a stick and whacked him once before he ran home."

Bilbo laughed heartily at that. "That bat of a woman," he said after he calmed. And that was that, his heart was light and his eyes nearly sparkled as he enjoyed the blissfully comfortable conversation he shared with Primrose; and such a natural thing to sit across from her in his home, almost as though she belonged there. They talked until noon, laughing and smiling or just talking and basking in the warm comfort.

"Well," Primrose said as she stood, "it seems you have had an exciting morning and I must be returning to the farm."

"Pity you must go so soon," Bilbo said as he walked her out the door and down his path. She smiled at him, such a sweet smile his heart nearly stopped and he almost told her then how he felt. Instead he asked, "Perhaps you could come by after supper? I have a, I have a new story to tell you," he said nearly stuttering, looking at his feet as he mumbled.

She looked at him with amazed eyes. "I would love to hear it," she told him pleasantly, smiling softly as she faced the direction of her family's farm.

He smiled relieved she had agreed, having not been sure if she would for it was not entirely decent for a young woman to visit with a man at such a late hour, or any hour really if the two were alone and not courting. But he had not been honest with her, for he had all but shied away from asking her to return before the words had left his tongue; he would ask her for her hand, to tell her he had loved her for years and he had long since forgotten how to live his days without her.

He waved to her as she left, returning her smile. "I'll be waiting for you," he called, almost losing the nerve before the words came out. And his heart lifted to the sky as she smiled, her bottom lip between her teeth and a sweet look in her eye. He practically skipped back to his hobbit-hole so light he felt, hoping his courage would remain so that he may tell her when night fell.

The remainder of his day he spent smiling, in a whimsical mood as the hours past. And then evening came and he made his supper, whistling as he cooked his fish; giving himself enough time to change into into something more decent after he had finished, so he could properly ask to court her. He had just sat down at his table, fork and knife in hand to satiate his hungry belly, when a loud knock sounded on the door.

"She's rather early," Bilbo mumbled to himself before making his way to the door. So startled was he by the early visit he had forgotten he was still in his robe. Opening the door he prepared to smile and greet Primrose, knowing the moment he saw her beautiful face he would lose all nerve he had. And so he duly prepared himself, taking but a second, vowing to himself that it would be this night he would ask her. It was not, however, Primrose he saw standing on his stoop; and Bilbo looked at the visitor in startled befuddlement.

"Dwalin," the dwarf said bowing, "at your service."


	4. Chapter 4

_Lexi: thank you very much for reviewing, I'm glad you think so. _

_Guest: thank you, I'm happy to hear you're liking it. By any chance would you be the guest that reviewed Death Already Came And Got Me?_

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The moment Primrose left her house and began the short trip to Bilbo's she heard the loud voices and laughter and booming coming from Bag End. She continued warily and curiously onto his home, having known from the rushed way he'd asked her to come by he had meant to tell her more than just a story - now she did not know what he had planned. The moment she reached the steps Bilbo's door was torn open and Bilbo's shocked, horrified, pale face urged her quickly through the door. "Are you alright?" she asked him softly, turning wide eyes to the dwarves walking from room to room gathering food or chairs.

"No," Bilbo whispered shaking his head. "There are dwarves in my house, they're making a mess of everything, and I don't know why they're here."  
Primrose looked at him, seeing the panic written clearly on his face as he moved toward a dwarf holding a chair. "That was my mother's chair, put it back," he ordered the dwarf, pointing to the room it was taken from. Bilbo sighed and looked back to Primrose, seeing the wary discomfort in not only her eyes but also in the way she stood.

She turned to Bilbo ready to give him a farewell and rush home, leaving him to this mess, but his eyes were pleading and she did love him greatly. "Would you like me stay?" she asked reluctantly, pitifully.

"Please?" he begged, his eyes wide and hopeful.

She thought of saying no, she wanted to say no, but his hands held hers firm in his own as he stared at her and her resolve weakened until it broke entirely. "Of course," she told him and he sighed smiling lightly before it fell and alarm settled once more of his features. He let out a little moan before rushing to see what had happened to cause such a crash, and he left Primrose to step around the mud and filth that had been tracked in with the dwarves on the floor; let alone the air, which now was stained almost visible with the stench of dwarf and it took all of her will not to wrinkle her nose so no offense would be taken.

Making her way to the pantry she heard a few hushed whispers about who she was, which were hardly whispers at all for dwarves were not a quiet folk, and upon reaching the closet she was met with empty shelves. A few minutes she stood looking between the pantry and the dwaves - who now had their eyes on all of Bilbo's food they had prepared for themselves. She turned to Bilbo when she felt him come to stand at her side, seeing the dismay and flash of annoyance. "Be nice," she whispered.

He turned to her with frustrated eyes, ready to demand all the dwarves to get out of his house. "Do you see what they,"

"Be nice," she interrupted, her voice firmer and her eyes harder to get her point across.

He nearly stamped his foot in outrage, not wanting to be nice; he had wanted to confess to her that he had wished to wed her years go, but with the sounds of the dwarves laughing and eating it was obvious it would be on that night. "But they,"

"Be nice," she said again, her brows knitted though her eyes were still uneasy. There were many men in this one hobbit-hole, men she did not know, and men who were dwarves - impolite, rude, loud, and smelly dwarves. Bilbo nodded, squeezing her hand before turning to the dwarves, his nose wrinkling immediately. Primrose understood when she turned to see what had disgusted him, the dwarves were nearly inhaling their food, grabbing more with their hands and shoveling it in their wide half full mouths. Silence fell only when they began drinking, ale pouring out of the side of their mouths and into their food-filled beards; and they careless wiped the mess away with the back of their hand. And then they belched. Gandalf watched amusedly as Bilbo and the girl turned to one another with sickened looks before looking back to the dwarves.

Primrose disheartily grabbed the bucket and the wooden brush before fetching soap and water, planning to scrub the floors before the dirt could discolour it. Which left her on her knees with little strands of hair falling into her face as she scrubbed relentlessly at the mud the dwarves had trampled and caked into the floor. She wiped the sweat from her brow listening as the dwarves talked and laughed, and to Bilbo's muffled grumbles as he tried to bring order back to his poor home and keep his nice things from being ruined. She slowly moved her way from the door, where it was messiest, to down the hall where she could hear the dwarves the loudest.

"Hello."

Primrose looked up to see a young dwarf staring down at her with a silly smile, not much of a beard on his face. "Hello," she said uncertainly with a smile.

"I'm Kili," he said proudly before bowing, "at your service."

"Oh," she said with a gleam in her eye. "And I'm Primrose Smallburrow at yours. Perhaps you could offer your service to help me clean up your mess?" she asked sweetly watching his smile falter as he looked down at her. "If you find that you cannot, than maybe you pick up your dirty feet so I may continue?" She continued smiling pleasantly up at him and he nodded with a small smirk before stepping back so she could scrub the spot he'd been standing in.

"Excuse me?"

Both Kili and Primrose turned to see the youngest of the dwarves, Ori, stepping to Bilbo.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

And that was the question that started the dwarves to frighten and fret Bilbo as he hadn't before. Primrose nearly jumped when a plate flew at Kili, who merely caught it and tossed it into the kitchen; and she waited for a crash but it never came. Instead more plates were thrown to him, and Bilbo appalled opposed voraciously.

"Excuse me," his voice said loudly as he tried to push through the dwarves in front of him. "That's my mother's West Farthing pottery," he said as the yellow-haired dwarf continued throwing dishes to his brother, who continued throwing them to Bofur. "It's over a hundred years old!"

Primrose got to her feet and watched as plates chinked and silverware beat on the table. "And can you not do that," Bilbo asked, rather demanded unhappily, "you'll blunt them?"

"Did you hear that lads?" a dwarf named Bofur called as he continued tapping his fork and knife, "he said we'll blunt the knives!" Many laughed, none taking heed to Bilbo's request or his horrified face as he watched them toss about his things. Instead they began to sing; a funny song to all but a hobbit, who prided themselves on their nice things and their clean comes and their good manners. Primrose stood behind Bilbo, leaning against the doorway with a hand to her mouth, as she watched the dwarves toss, bounce, and all but shatter the dishes. There were feet on the table, tapping and dancing, a dwarf playing a teapot, food being wiped off a plate and eaten, pipes being smoked.

"Bilbo," Primrose whispered trying to grab him as he rushed forward, and over his shoulder she saw all the bowls, plates, silverware, and mugs stacked and cleaned in the middle of the table and the dwarves and wizard standing behind them smiling. But silence fell, as did their smiles, when three loud knocks sounded on the door - the sound of the last visitor.


	5. Chapter 5

Primrose swallowed her curiosity in who was now visiting, guessing correctly it was another dwarf, and moved into the dining room and began putting all of Bilbo's dishes away - a task that took many minutes for the dwarves had taken and used _all_ of them. She heard murmering, some softer than her ears could hear and some she just barely heard over the chinking of pottery. But silence fell when the door opened, and she heard most everything clearly.

"Bilbo Baggins," she heard the wizard say. "Allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Primrose set the bowls in their cupboard and resisted the urge to peek around the dwarves, until she heard Thorin Oakenshield's response: "so, this is the hobbit." A deep voice, laced with condescending unimpression. She looked around Dwalin and Dori to see a head of dark hair, a back as straight and proud as a tree - she knew upon sight this was a dwarf of royal blood.

"Tell me Mr. Baggins," Thorin said, judgement alight in his eyes as he moved around Bilbo appraising him, "have you done much fighting?"

Primrose stepped back and turned to the table, lifting as many of the plates as her little hands could hold and carried them to their place in the cupboard; it was then, still walking around the hobbit, that Thorin caught sight of the long blonde curls disappearing and he looked back to Bilbo with narrowed eyes. "Ax or sword, what's your weapon of choice?" he asked brusquley.

"Well I do have some skill in conkers if you must know," Bilbo said deepening his voice. "But I fail to see why that's relavent," he continued, his voice returning to normal as Thorin stopped in front of him with his arms crossed, nearly double the hobbit's shoulder breadth. Bilbo would have heavily blushed had he seen the look on Primrose's face, brows furrowed in wondering and a mouth trying not to laugh.

"Thought as much," Thorin said, and all mirth left her as his voice lowered in condescending. "He looks more a grocer than a burglar." She did not know if it were his tone or the laughter of the others, but she did not feel like being kind any longer; and she sighed when Bilbo offered no defense for himself.

"Where is the lady of the house, why have I not been introduced to her yet?" Thorin asked stilling her movements.

"Oh, uh, she," Bilbo stuttered nearly blushing.

"Ah yes," Gandalf said softly, having seen the hobbit girl about. "Primrose," he called surprising her with his knowing her name.

She set down the handful of plates she'd grabbed and moved between Dwalin and Dori in the doorway. "Could you return the remaining dishes to their proper place, please?" she asked kindly, though Dwalin was not having it.

"As the lady of the house I do believe that is your duty," he told her, and it was. Had she and Bilbo been married, whether the dwarves had been invited or not, the task of cleaning the house and caring for the mess they made fell to her.

But her eyes narrowed. "I am not the lady of the house," she informed him, her voice still light and sweet though not nearly as kind. "Nor is it my fault you insisted upon taking out more things than I can carry. Now I will ask you again, could you put back the rest of the dishes?"

With an irritated growl and a severe look Dwalin complied, though she had already turned from him to Thorin.

"Primrose Smallburrow," she greeted pleasantly enough, though she offered no at your service or any other nicety.

Thorin stared hard at her, taking in her blonde hair and her pretty face and her own sharp eyes that were as displeased to be looking at him as he was her. "Well if she is not the lady of the house then she has no place here," Thorin said firmly looking up at Gandalf.

Before the wizard could reply her soft voice interrupted him. "I do not believe you have the liberty to decide that."

Thorin's eyes darkened as he looked at her, and still she stood with her back straight unafraid. "He is our king, milady," Balin told her sharply, though he was quite amazed for not many dared to speak out against Thorin Oakenshield.

"He is not the king of the Shire," she responded simply. "Nor does he have rule over this household." She turned back to Thorin and met his hot eyes, though her own eyes flashed fire when she saw his feet. "And he has tracked muck on the floor I just cleaned."

The dwarves had nothing to say to that, for now staring at the mess they'd made in the face of the woman who was cleaning it - and she sounded very much the lady of the house - they had forgotten the small manners they were capable of.

Primrose sighed, her shoulders dropping at the thought of scrubbing more. "Oh go sit so I can get you something to eat," she ordered Thorin shooing him with her hands to the dining room. "And for the love of, try not to muddy up the rest of the floor," she said sternly as he went, making him angry and consternated as he went, the dwarves following after him casting curious glances back at her.

Upon turning to Bilbo she was met with his shocked eyes. "What happened to being nice?" he whispered, though in all truth he was greatly impressed; for he never would have had the gall to say any of that.

Primrose looked at Bilbo almost shyly. "He was very rude to you," she said as a means of defense, though it was a rather small one. "Though if you would like me to leave," she said trailing off, letting him answer.

"No," he said quickly grabbing her hand, not wanting to be alone in this though he knew it was terribly unfair to her. "I mean, if you wouldn't mind," he added blushing slight at his outburst toward wanting her to stay.

She smiled turning away toward the kitchen, slipping out of his grasp, and filled a bowl with what was left over from the stew.

"I do not want her here, Gandalf," Thorin told the wizard hushedly as the others took their seats. "I will not share the details of my quest with a woman I do not know."

Gandalf sighed and very nearly rolled his eyes. "I do believe if we had come but a short time later she would have been the lady of Mr. Baggins' home, and then you would have no choice," he told the dwarf king. "And she has done greatly to prove the heart of a hobbit," he said pleased, liking the young hobbit woman. "She managed to stand up to you and that is no small feat."

Thorin gave Gandalf a hard look before taking his seat, looking up when small hands placed a bowl and spoon before him. "Would you like some bread for your stew?" Primrose asked courteously. She resisted the urge to smack him upside the head like a child when all he did was nod, having no manners in the face of his entitlement. Instead she got the little piece of bread that was left and set it before him, bringing a mug of ale as well; kill him with kindness, is what her mother would tell her. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked looking at him, seeing his brow raise in what seemed to be surprise.

"No, this will be all," he told her. And he was surprised for he knew she'd overheard him when he said he wanted her gone, and yet she was being kind. He did not understand women.

Primrose gave Bilbo a look that said "I don't even know" as she passed him, gathering the bucket and brush and setting about once more to rid the floor of dirt. She stopped listening to the dwarves as she cleaned, their voices only murmers or sometimes sudden shouts that she did not entirely care for, for she did not know what they were talking about. Instead she scrubbed and she scrubbed, ridding the floor of dirt and the rug and the glory box someone decided to wipe their shoes on. She did not look up until Bilbo began pacing in the hall and nearly stepped on her hand; though his nose was in the contract and he paid her no mind.

"Up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth total profit if any," Bilbo read and hummed thinking it was reasonable. "Not limited to lacerations," Bilbo said sounding out the word, it being a bit smudged. "Evisceration?" He opened a side note and read the word clearly; "Incineration?" he questioned unhappily turning to the others out of shock.

Primrose's brows rose in surprise, having not realized a dragon would be part of the quest; and very much not wanting Bilbo to go on it.

"Aye, it'll melt the flesh of your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said with a small smirk, further frightening the hobbit.

Bilbo felt the breath leave him and his head started to spin.

"You alright laddie?" Balin asked seeing he was a bit green.

"I feel a bit faint," he answered.

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur said and Primrose looked at him startled, realizing he was trying to upset Bilbo.

"Air, I need air," Bilbo said, his stomach heaving a bit as the world spun.

But Bofur continued unrelenting. "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof you're nothing more than a pile of ash," Bofur finished pleasantly.

Bilbo took a couple of breaths trying to calm himself, it almost working if not for the images rolling around in his mind. "Nope," he said before the world darkened and he fell.

"Very helpful Bofur," Gandalf muttered, having hoped Bilbo might not faint.

Bofur stood smiling, a few dwarves chuckling behind him. But they all quieted as they were met with Primrose's angry eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

_Lexi: thank you for reviewing, I forgot to reply to the other one so I'm very sorry. She is certainly not pleased with them, that's for sure. And as men staring at a pissed off woman, after dirting the house she has to clean, they're a little wary of her. And to your other review, I wouldn't mind going on the adventure either; but I'll be honest, it wouldn't be Bilbo I was going for, that would be Thorin. Thank you again._

* * *

"Lay him here," she instructed Fili and Kili, pointing toward the sofa. Kili had jumped up and offered to carry Bilbo off the floor, kicking his brother when Fili did no more look up at him surprised and unwilling. But looking at her hard unrelenting eyes Fili had stood and given her small bow before grabbing Bilbo's feet and hefting him with Kili. Without a word, no thank you or any other pleasantry, she returned to the dining area and looked at each dwarf with her displeased eyes making them nearly squirm in their seats. "Take your dishes to the sink so I may wash them," she told them sternly, neither her voice nor her eyes offering refusal and so the dwarves stood and took their mugs to the sink, stacking them and scampering out of her way when she moved near. "You may not enter any of the personal rooms to the back of the house," she said as she made her way to the kitchen.

This caused many murmerings for her loose tongue, many believing she had no place to treat them as an unwanted guest when it was not her home. But a turn of her angry blue eyes had most all of them muttering "Yes milady," or bowing or simply to nod as Thorin did. It was not until her back was to them as she walked to the kitchen that their shoulders slumped in relief, having thought to be yelled out most severely; though they knew from the banging of the mugs that she was still greatly displeased. And so they quietly occupied themselves with smoking.

And this is what Bilbo was roused to; the dwarves talking hushedly to one another, tiptoeing around Primrose when she walked through the house looking for something. It left him wondering what had happened after he had fainted; which had horrified him for Primrose had seen him, and now probably thought him weak.

"Here."

Bilbo looked up to see Primrose's kind face looking down at him concernedly as she held out a cup of tea. "Oh, thank you," he said, his cheeks warming under her gaze.

She stared at him searchingly, looking at his tired pale face and wishing she could order Gandalf and the dwarves to leave so they could live normally once more; though Bilbo had never been a "normal" hobbit. "Are you alright, would you like me to fetch you something else?"

"This is enough, Prim," he said nodding, feeling both her and Gandalf's eyes heavy on him.

Primrose stepped away from him, seeing he was still shaken, though he did not call her Prim often; only in the most tender of moments, and once when he'd almost kissed her. So she left him.

"Are you well?" Gandalf asked, his impatience growing unceasingly.

"I'll be alright, just let me sit quietly for a moment," he said before taking a sip of the tea she'd made him, breathing easier with the familiar taste of her delicious brew. Or at least he would have had Gandalf not spoken.

"You have been sitting quietly for far too long," he said severely, surprising the hobbit. "Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?" he asked exasperated and confounded. "I remember a young hobbit always running off in search of elves in the woods. You'd stay out late, come home in the dark trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. And you were not afraid to hold her hand," he said causing Bilbo to turn to see if Primrose had heard, finding her giving Dori a cup of tea as well. "A young hobbit who have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire," Gandalf continued.

...

"Thank you miss Primrose," Dori said with a sweet smile as he took the tea, sipping it to find that it was most pleasant; and when he told her it was delicious he had meant it.

Primrose had nodded, smiling gently as she told him he was welcome, turning to the den Bilbo and Gandalf sat in, having very much heard, and sighed before making her way back to the kitchen. Even Gandalf knew Bilbo loved her, it seemed. But with the threat of adventure she was not quite sure it would matter whether Bilbo did or not, for he very well might not return. These were her thoughts as she finished the cups, Thorin's bowl and spoon. A sad state she had wallowed herself into, one in which a lovely deep growl of a voice found her in.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
T__o dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ere break of day  
to find our long forgotten gold._

And on it continued, Thorin's beautiful voice joined by the choir of his company. Though the words spoke of taking back what was their's, it also spoke of the dragon; and it was in that, that made it so sorrowful and sad. Primrose lowered the mug from her chest and set it with the others, leaving her with no more dishes left to clean. It was near silent after they had finished, only small whispers and the soft sound of the broom as she swept could be heard.

The song had touched Bilbo, had quieted his wondering heart and yet set him alight with the wondering of what he might find should he join the company. He was riddled with questions, plagued with worries, and so muddled was his mind he retired to his bed to rest; casting no thought to the dwarves who were still in his living room, or Primrose who continued to straighten out their mess.

That was where Thorin found her, on her knees yet again sweeping dirt and dust and crumbs into a pan. "Would you like something?" she asked, her voice soft and sweet - possibly the sweetest voice he thought he'd ever heard.

"No," he answered shaking his head. Instead he continued staring down at her, seeing the unease in her blue eyes. She was a gentle hobbit with a good heart, and she loved the hobbit Gandalf wished to bring with him; and Bilbo loved her in return. He saw more courage in her, or at least more strength of will; though that was evident in many women. She was not, however, strong enough to survive outside the safety of her home; but in all truth he saw more bravery in her than he did in the other, and he wanted neither of them as his burden.

"Is something wrong?" Primrose asked after a few moments as the dwarf continued to gaze down at her. She was unsure what to think or how to feel, his eyes were not hard nor were they glaring, yet they weighed heavily.

"He should remain here," Thorin told her quietly, the rest of the dwarves gathering their things or righting what they had misused. "And marry you." He almost smirked when she looked away blushing, a small smile on her mouth.

"I do not think he has the courage to ask me," she told him honestly, for she truly wondered if Bilbo ever would.

Thorin nodded understanding, that being proof enough Bilbo could not survive in the wild. "As it is," he said holding her eyes when she looked back up at him, "you should keep him here. He would be ill met where we are going."

She smiled at him, seeing he did not understand. "He will surprise you, wait and see. He is not like ordinary hobbits, though he tries to be. I would not be surprised should he join you on the morn." He looked at her strangely and she sighed seeing he still not get it. "I have waited for him to ask my hand in marriage for many years. And over those years I was paid mind to by many suiters, and yet I refused them all so that he may ask me," she told him, finding it was difficult to explain why she had waited almost all her life for one hobbit, when he had yet to tell her anything of his feelings. "Bilbo's different, you'll see."

Thorin could see she strongly believed Bilbo would join their company, though he had so far refused, and so he sighed and nodded still believing her to be wrong. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"You are leaving?" she asked getting to her feet in surprise. "So soon?"

He felt a smile curling on his lips. "Dawn will break soon, and we have but little time to spare."

"Oh," she breathed as she fiddled with her fingers. "I know it may seem a strange thing to ask," she said rather timidly, knowing it was very strange indeed, which is what made her next words all the more difficult to say especially under his hard questioning stare, "but when your quest is finished, could you send me a letter so that I know you are all alright?"

Thorin's brows rose in absulte shock. Never before had he been faced with such gentle kindness, with such a pure heart, that he honestly did not know what to do. "I will send it with your hobbit," he told her specifically for the smile that graced her face as she laughed lightly.

"He will surprise you, Thorin Oakenshield," she told him pleasantly and he nodded nearly rolling his eyes.

"I very much doubt that, Primrose Smallburrow," he replied. They were left looking at one another facing a goodbye neither had anticipated making - though in all fairness Primrose was now faced with knowing the dangers of the quest and that they all might perish before they saw it end, and that Bilbo might join them. Thorin was stunned, so entirely immobile not even his chest moved to breathe, when he felt her lips brush his cheek.

"I wish you all the luck in the world," she told him softly, worry alight in her eyes; a worry for him though he had done nothing but fret her beloved and dirty his home.

These were things he did not understand, for she was not only a woman but a kind one as well; and he never met a woman of her like before. "Thank you," he said, his voice but a whisper before he turned. The rest of the dwarves finished what they were doing and gave her a hearty, yet quiet, farewell and thanks and murmered apologies for their behavior.

This left her feeling rather ill, for they were people with names and families, and she knew they might fall. That there was more of chance they would die than succeed, for how could thirteen dwarves defeat a dragon on their own. She found that she was very sad, for she had learned their names, their faces; and now they were gone, leaving her with silence in a home that was not her own.


	7. Chapter 7

_Lexi: I wouldn't mind her going, I think it could have the potential of being super cute if she did cause the dwarves would love her - cause she'd be like a caretaker for them. However, Thorin wouldn't allow for two hobbits let alone a woman. Women do not go to the battle, and they do not do dangerous quests. So as much as I would like her to go, it would be a very far stretch cause it's just so unlikely. _

* * *

The world was bright and all was quiet when Bilbo woke; it was the quiet that startled Bilbo out of his bed. He tiptoed through his home searching for a sign of the dwarves, seeing his house was as clean as before they had arrived. "Hello?" he called timidly after not finding anyone, peeking in little places in case they were hiding, rejoicing at them being gone and with them their nasty adventure. Though he was not yet ready to admit he had just barely refused, almost wanting to join them.

It wasn't until he entered the den, seeing Primrose sleeping in a chair with the contract in her lap, that he realized he'd forgotten completely about her when he had retired to his bed. He was ashamed, embarrassed, and touched that she had stayed when the others had gone.

She woke to Bilbo's hand on her arm shaking her gently. "Good morning," she said rubbing her eyes quickly, embarrassed she had fallen asleep in his home; her eyes sore from the several times she had almost cried as she read the contract and imagined any of the horrible things happening to any of the dwarves; but especially to Bilbo. She looked up at him to see an apology already on his lips. "It is alright," she assured him, "you had much on your mind."

He sighed in relief that she quickly forgave him having left her to care for his home in the face of the dwarves while he slept. "Thank you," he said sitting beside her as she refolded the contract. "My home would have been a wreck had you not taken care of it for me. I do not think I could ever thank you enough for staying with me."

She smiled at him, a sharp pain in her heart as she did so. "You should probably go soon if you want to catch them, they had to stop for their ponies but you might make it to the stables if you leave now." She smiled at him, a smile that fell in seconds as tears gathered in her eyes.

"Prim," he said taking her arms and standing her on her feet, "I'm not going anywhere, there is no need to worry." And even then they both knew his words were untrue, though she knew it more than he.

"Of course you are," she told him softly, her voice sad and her eyes worried. "You're Bilbo Baggins."

He stared at her surprised, having been refusing in his own mind that he wouldn't go after them. "I am a hobbit, hobbits do not go on adventures," he said releasing her, turning from her as though to hide the truth from her eyes.

"You do," she said gently causing him to turn and look at her, Bilbo seeing the pain in her eyes that though she was telling him to go she did not want him to. "Tell me in ten years you will not regret staying," she demanded, staring him hard in the eye so that he had no choice but to look at her.

He opened his mouth to tell her he would not regret staying for they could wed and he would be happy the rest of his days. But he closed his mouth when no words left his tongue, for though he did wish to marry her he wanted to go after the dwarves; his heart raced with the thought of it.

She gave him a pained smile. "You have the heart for adventure, Bilbo," she said. "It's one of the things I love most about you. I will stay here and care for your home as best that I can while you are away." Her voice broke with nearly every word, her hands clasped together as though in prayer, and he could see how much it was paining her to say this. "And then you'll come back," she said trying and failing to smile as her chin quivered. "Tell me you will come back," she begged.

"Of course," he swore as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He felt her clench his shirt in her tiny fists as she clung to him, having never felt her this close to him before - he almost didn't want to leave. almost.

Primrose kept her arms around his waist, breathing him in as she fought the panic to beg him to stay with her and so she unwound her arms. "You should get dressed," she told him, staving off her tears in face of the excitement in his eyes.

He smiled down at her, seeing she believed he could go on the adventure, and then he raced to his room to change his clothes. He returned to the den hardly two minutes later to find her stuffing things in a backpack, belting a rolled blanket to the bottom. "You'll have what you need in here. I packed the little bit of food you have left, and if you run out tell them have to share for they ate everything else," she said stepping behind him and putting it onto his back.

"I think I have everything," he mumbled as he thought of what all he would need while he was gone.

Primrose looked at him and gave a smile, one he thankfully did not see was forced for she was still fighting tremendously not to cry. "You will miss them if you take any longer," she urged, knowing if he did not leave now she would fall to her knees and beg him with all that she had to stay - and he would because he loved her, and so he needed to leave.

"Right," Bilbo said voraciously as he made for the door.

"Bilbo," she called holding out the contract he'd forgotten.

"Ah yes," he said fidgety with excitement, and a worried panic all of his own. He grabbed a quill and florished his name before holding the contract and looking at her. "I will come back."

She gave him a little smile, not able to offer more. "I know you will," she said nodding, ushering him to the door. "I'll water your plants, sweep your floors, dust your shelves. I will take better care of your home than you do," she told him as they walked out onto his stoop. He turned to her and gave her a little half smile and a nod, his eyes widening when she kissed his cheek - just barely missing the corner of his mouth. "Go," she urged, shooing him with her hands. "And come back to me."

"I will," he swore as he lept down his steps and down his path. "And I'm going to marry you when I do," he yelled as he ran, the contract blowing behind him.

On any other day she would have smiled at his words, would have felt her heart flutter with a thrilled joy at his admitting he loved her. It was not that day. She did not know what all the troubles he would face, only of Mirkwood and the dragon - both of which were incredibly dangerous and likely to bring about peril. She did not know how long she would have to wait for him to return, months, years. If he would return, for not even Gandalf could assure that Bilbo would come back to his home. She watched him run until she could no longer see him and then she slowly walked back into his house where she curled on his bed, smelling him all around her, and she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

_So next chapter will be Bilbo's time on the quest, how Primrose misses him and what happens with his home while he's gone cause that's a whole story- as well as little tidbits of Bilbo and how he thinks of her. Hope you all are still enjoying, and thanks for reading._


	8. Chapter 8

_Lexi: thanks for reviewing. It was sad to write her crying, cause she really didn't want him to go. But she knew he did. I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you like this one too._

* * *

When night fell that first day Bilbo was given a most wonderful treat when he opened his pack; Primrose had remembered what Bilbo had forgotten.

"My handkerchief," he exclaimed hushedly, a smile on his face as he felt the stitchings of his name Prim had sewn beautifully. She had known he would want it, and that had touched him more greatly than he would have guessed. He was struck by how much he missed her, and he had only been gone but a day; but in that moment he wished more than anything to see her, to hug her a last time as though he truly might not do it again. In that moment, he regretted joining the quest; when all he truly wanted was to return home and marry her. But when the sun rose he packed his bag, folding his handkerchief neatly and putting it in his pocket, remembering the faith she'd had in him that he could carry through the adventure. And so he clumsily climbed atop his pony, and he continued on.

...

It was entirely inappropriate and greatly looked down upon what Primrose Smallburrow was doing, staying in an unwed hobbit's home as though it were her own; and of course Bilbo Baggins having left to go on an adventure, a most unheard of thing, was the talk of the town. Her father did not understand why she insisted upon remaining in Bag End while Bilbo was gone, why she had not returned home when Bilbo had been seeing such roudy guests. Her mother, however, heard with a woman's ears when Primrose admitted Bilbo had left with thirteen dwarves and a wizard - leaving her the promise of wedding when he returned.

And so Primrose remained in Bilbo's empty home, restocking his pantry, keeping it clean and feeling as though someone lived in it; fighting the fear that gripped her heart he would not return. It only fretted her worse when she left his home to go to the market, to return to her own home, to just breathe in the smell of air that did not carry Bilbo's scent; eyes stared at her, curiously, enviously, queerly, and worst of all judgementally. Whispers muffled behind hands reached her ears, undecipherable words but their gazes were heavy on her, and it pained her when they spoke of Bilbo; for rarely was talk of him muffled, for most all of them agreed that he had shamed himself by departing on an adventure, and with such an uncouth company.

"How she stands for it," one hobbit muttered as Primrose passed. "I would have given up on him after the second, even the third suitor."

"Do you think she's as strange as him?" another one would ask.

"Think she agreed with him going?" asked another. Simply two older women looking for a bit of gossip; at least that was what Primrose told herself. But it did not stop there. Over and over, time and again hobbits stopped and stared, whispered just low enough she could only catch snippets of their words, or spoke specifically so she could hear.

The only person it did not hurt to listen to talk about Bilbo was Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins, who only wanted Bag End. And so any words that could have hurt Primrose, were meant to show her that she had no claim to the Baggins' home, simply brushed off of her; for Bilbo loved her, and she loved him. And they would be wed upon his return. But over the days, which turned to weeks, and then to months, it grew all but impossible for her to believe any of it could happen.

...

A few days after Bilbo had run after the dwarves he found himself riding beside Balin; the only dwarf who showed Bilbo any amount of kindness, and had from the beginning.

"You love her," Balin said quietly in an off handed sort of way. "The hobbit-girl we met," he clarified upon Bilbo's startled face.

Bilbo blinked in shock a few times before swallowing. "I, um, I guess I, well you see we, I don't." Bilbo could not seem to decide on what to say, having something in mind only for it to change so quickly he lost what he had been about to say, and so he tried again with something different only to lose that thought as well.

Balin smiled and nodded. "I would say that answers that," he teased amusedly. "You should ask for her hand."

"I was going to the night you all visited," Bilbo mumbled, his cheeks warm and his eyes downcast.

Balin's brows rose, realizing if they had come a few weeks - or possibly even days - that Bilbo would not have joined them; he would have been betrothed, hopelessly in love with the woman who so loved him in return. They would have had to find another burglar, Balin thought as he rode. "You will ask her when you return," Balin told him, looking at him expectantly.

Bilbo sighed and turned away. "I told her we would be married when I returned," he admitted. "Right before I left actually."

The dwarf smiled before punching Bilbo in the arm, a look of satisfaction on his aged and weathered face. "She will make you a very fine wife, laddie," Balin said.

Bilbo rubbed his sore arm, his brows furrowed, but his heart light; for he very much agreed, Primrose would make a wonderful wife. And he could not wait to call her his, to have and to hold, until the end of their days.

...

In a year's time Primrose had moved back into her family's home, taking up once more her chores on their farm; it being apparent to all but her that Bilbo would not return.

Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins had stopped by Bag End one day, bearing with her the gravest of news. "My dear," Lobelia said sitting at Bilbo's table with a cup of tea, stretching her wrinkled hand out and grasping one of Primrose's, "it has been a year. He is not coming back."

Primrose looked at her not understanding, her heart unable to bear the thought of it. "Of course he is," she insisted with a smile, though it faltered in doubt. "And we will be wed just as he said."

"I am sure he ment it," Lobelia told her, patting her hand gently, looking at her as though she were the sweetest, though not most intelligent, child. "But you do not see what has happened."

"And what is that?" Primrose asked getting to her feet, her eyes wide with unshed tears.

Lobelia sighed grieviously, all of Hobbiton already guessing what had happened to poor Bilbo Baggins; all but Primrose Smallburrow, it seemed. "Please sit down deary," she said as soothingly as she could, kind not being something she normally was.

Primrose continued to look at her, her brows creased and her chin quivering. "Say it," she demanded, tears laced in her voice. "If you want me to leave this house then you need to say it."

Lobelia found that it was difficult to look at her, to see the raw pain on her face as she waited for words that would destroy her. "Bilbo is dead, Primrose," she said softly. "He is not coming back."

The satisfaction of having the girl gone, Bag End now without occupant, did not come easily. For though Primrose had covered her mouth as she ran from the hobbit-hole, Lobelia could still hear her tears. There was little victory in pain, and such heartbreak the young hobbit had been dealt. But even still, Lobelia and Otho looked upon the plans of their moving into the hobbit-hole most impatiently. In the months that followed an auction was arranged, in Bag End, where most of Hobbiton, and even folks in Bywater, came to see his things and to offer a price.

It was on the day of the auction that a most unwelcome sight was seen: Bilbo Baggins himself. And he was met with a greatly unwelcome surprise of many people in his home, holding his things, and more than half of them missing already. "What is going on?" he asked, exasperated, horrified, and utterly tired to simply be in his own home again. "Put that back," he said to a hobbit trying to sneak something past him, watching as she beligerantly stomped back into his home and slammed it down and stomped her way out.

This was not what Bilbo had thought to come home to; and Primrose wasn't in sight, and it was only her face he wanted to see. A long while it took to convince them it was truly him, the Sacksville-Baggins took the most convincing for they greatly wanted his home. For those had not bought anything they returned to their homes, barely whispering as they talked excitedly. For those who had just purchased something their money was returned as were his things. But for those who had already left, Bilbo himself would have to track down, and to avoid a quarrel he was told it would be best should he simply buy his things back from them.

"Buy my own things," he muttered as he walked through his home, seeing the more personable items hadn't been touched, though many things were still missing - such as all of his silverware. He had not a chair to sit on, only his bed which he thankfully caught before it was sold, not a table to eat at though he had no dishes or anything to cook with.

He turned to the door with angry eyes when he heard four loud short knocks. "Go away," he yelled, "I am not seeing any visitors." He did not care how he sounded, he did not wish to be respectable; he wanted his things, and he wanted to lay in his own bed and sleep. But that would not be so when the sound of knocking began, faster and more desperate sounding. "If you are here to buy anything, nothing is for sale," he called as he walked to the door, not bothering looking out the window before he threw it open, planning to give whoever it was a piece of his mind.

Bilbo nearly fell back from the smaller body that slammed into his, arms locked tight around his neck, chest pressed against his so that he could feel her rapid breathing as though she'd run to him. With a sigh he wrapped his arms around her back, relaxing completely as he held her once more. Even after a year he would never forget the smell of her, the feel of her; and he had longed for her greatly over the passing months.

"I'm so sorry," Primrose breathed, knowing most of his things were gone. She pulled away to look at him, to see his handsome face as she had only dreamed it. "They said you were dead. If I had known I wouldn't have let them," she swore, tears alight in her eyes. "I took some of your things so they would not sell them, the ones I thought were most important to,"

He silenced any and all other words from her with his mouth, pulling her close and holding her to him as he did what he should have years ago; he kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Lexi: thanks for reviewing. I know, I was waiting for him to kiss her too. I'm very glad to know you are liking him with Primrose, enough to scream :)_

* * *

Bilbo may have been content to kiss her for the rest of the day, maybe even the rest of the night when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself closer. He could not imagine how he had lived without this, such a wondrous feeling, her soft full lips like pillows embracing his mouth. This is what happiness is, she thought feeling his arms wrapped around her back keeping her locked tight against his chest. There was a light in his eyes when he pulled away, a mischief and a glee she hadn't seen in years.

"Hello," he said softly, a half smile curled on his mouth as he looked at her wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

She looked at him shocked, breathing deeply as she felt her entire body warm; never before had he looked at her with half the intensity as he looked at her then. "You have changed, Bilbo Baggins," she breathed, staring hard at his still sweet handsome face. With a swelling in her chest she pulled his mouth to hers, his smile replaced with her lips and his breath stolen by pleasant surprise.

He reached behind her and threw the door shut before pressing her back against it; years he had longed to do this, many times he had tried and failed to even speak his feelings. He kissed her until their lips were numb, a colored bruise, and their lungs were burning for air; and even then he might never have stopped.

"Will you tell me of your adventure?" she asked breathlessly, standing firm against his chest as he held her in his arms.

He smiled at the caring in her eyes, at the love he now plainly saw in their depths. "Would you like me to start from the beginning?"

...

A short while later the two sat across from each other on his bed, entirely and completely inappropriate but he had no other place for them to sit. He started from the beginning, from the moment he left her. He told her of catching up to the dwarves, who had just departed into the woods, of the howling of orcs in the night. She'd shivered at that, imagining the horrid creatures; "Did you come across any orcs?" she asked softly, not liking the thought of it though Bilbo was obviously well and alright in front of her.

"I'll get to that later," he told her, watching her eyes grow wide in horror. "Prim," he said taking her hand, "I am alright," he assured her.

"Are the others alright too?" she asked, having not forgotten Thorin's word he'd send her letter - and yet no letter had she received.

Bilbo squeezed her hand gently, knowing that part of his tale would greatly upset her. "That will come later as well," he said, watching as realization dawned in her eyes. And so he quickly continued with his story, distracting her momentarily from the inevitable.

"You were almost eaten by a troll?" she asked amazed and horrified at the same time. "How were you saved?"

"Well I distracted them," he said proudly, puffing his chest out slightly. "I bought us time so Gandalf could rescue us," he admitted, his shoulders dropping as he looked at her awed face. "They turned to stone in the sun," he said amazing her even more for she had not known that. He then told her of the troll cave and the treasure they'd discovered, a little of which he had returned with. She had nearly gasped when he told her he'd been given a sword, which he showed her, telling her it glowed blue when near orcs or goblins. Her next interruption was of course whether he'd had to use it, and once more he told her, "I'll get to that later."

He hurried past Radagast and the orcs chasing them, far too excited to tell her of the elves in Rivendell; spending more time describing the splendor of the Lord Elrond and his marvelous home than any other part of his story. And Primrose, having never left the Shire, hung onto his every word. He told her of the stone giants they faced on the Mountains, of almost falling to his death had Thorin not saved him. He then told her of the goblins, which he saw only briefly before he fell down the cavern. She was very interested in Gollum, of their game of riddles, to which she answered every one of them correctly.

"How ever did you get past him?" she asked curiously, astounded by the amount of bravery he must have had.

He hesitated a moment, his fingers brushing his pocket to feel the shape of the ring. "I snuck past him," he lied, feeling dirty and cruel to have done so for there was no reason not to tell her - and yet he did not speak of the ring. And he was forced to lie to her again when he told her of Mirkwood and the Elvenking - though that was after Azog had caught them, to which she'd stared astonished when he told her how he'd saved Thorin's life. And it was after Beorn, who she'd asked a great many questions - in all honesty, he was her favorite part of the adventure, and she greatly wished to meet him. But it did not cross his mind that he would have to change the truth of what happened, not until he began to tell her of their journey through the wood. Even as he explained all that happened, of the terrible many eyes staring at them, of Bombur falling in the enchanted black river, of leaving the path and fighting the terrible spiders, he thought of how to not have to lie to her. But he found none, for he had already lied once and unless he admitted to it he could not tell her what had really happened with the wood-elves.

"How long were you imprisoned?" she asked, unhappy with the way all of the dwarves were treated let alone Bilbo who had no quarrel with the Elvenking.

"Two weeks I suppose," he lied, nearly biting his tongue to keep from telling her the truth. "It was a long while, we never knew." His stomach churned when he looked at her, seeing the compassion and the care on her face; hating himself for telling her anything but the truth. And there was no reason he could find why he hadn't, at least not one he would admit to himself; for the ring had already etched a small place in his heart.

He'd dug himself a hole, one larger than he realized for now he had to lie about how they escaped; which he could think of nothing but an elf helping them, and so he'd chosen the she-elf with the fiery hair - the one who had looked upon them the kindest, though her eyes had still been hard and mistrustful. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he told her of escaping in the barrels, and then of the Lake-town, for he did not have to lie then. And he nearly smiled when he realized he would not have to again. For even when he told her of the dragon, which she had almost cried in outrage that the dwarves had made him speak with the dragon, he simply left out that he had been wearing the ring.

She hardly interrupted as he explained Smaug, not daring to in case Bilbo forgot something. She was amazed at the courage he'd had, of his wit; horrified that Bilbo had faced a dragon, looked him in the eye, and almost died. And he hadn't gotten to the worst of all of it - she realized Thorin had died when Bilbo told her he'd fallen ill with the gold. It was why he had not sent her a letter telling her of his and the other's safety, it was why Bilbo's face grew sad when he told of the horrible things Thorin said in his sickness. And she listened quietly, fearfully, as Bilbo told her of the goblins and orcs that swarmed the Mountain; forcing the men, elves, and dwarves to fight together in order to claim victory.

"Prim?" he asked gently, seeing her sad pale face as she stared at the nothingness before her; her having hardly made a sound as Bilbo told her of Thorin, and Kili and Fili's deaths.

"I am alright," she said standing, smoothing out her skirt simply for something to do with her shaking hands.

He knew she wasn't, he had known all along she wouldn't be. There was nothing to do to lessen the painful blow that quieted his heart, that made him ache with regret that it had ended the way it had.

She nearly flinched when he reached for her. "Don't," she said, tears heavy in her voice.

Before he touched her he knew what it would do, and so when she began to cry he was already pulling her into his arms. He held her as she cried, soft tears that shook her shoulders, and he ran his hand through her hair soothingly until she stilled. And then he wiped the tears from her cheeks, listening to her little sniffs as she blinked all other tears away. They were quiet for many long minutes, standing close enough to touch, breathing in tune with the other, their hearts beating as one. It was getting late when he finally walked her home, both moving slowly as they tried to make their time last before they would part.

"I am glad you're back," she said when they reached her gate. "I missed you."

He smiled nearly blushing before kissing her cheek, bidding her a goodnight before they turned away. "There's something else," he said calling her back, having almost forgotten.

"What is it?" she asked stepping back to him, entering his warmth with a relief too strong to bear; as though she could not survive without feeling him near.

He reached into left pocket, taking a breath before looking at her waiting face. "Do you remember Balin?" he asked, almost nervous as he waited for her to nod. "He insisted upon my having this, it is from the treasure."

She gasped when she saw the ring, seeing the blue gem gleam in the moonlight. She smiled when Bilbo took her hand and slid it on her finger, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Primrose," he said softly, fighting himself to say the words. "May I have the honor, of taking your hand in marriage." He waited barely breathing for her answer, the air rushing out of him when she nodded.

"Yes," she told him through her tears, having waiting years for him to ask. And so when he pulled her to him she was already reaching for him.

* * *

_I am not fully sure how to write them in love and married; cause it's sweet and fluffy. And yet there's lust when you love someone, and I can't picture a hobbit lusting for another. So I am in great of your personal opinions. Bilbo is different from other hobbits, and he has the ring which makes him more audacious than normal; so does it stand to reason that he might be more lustful? That the fluff would be more intense, and a little more sexually charged? I would really appreciate any opinions you guys give me._


	10. Chapter 10

_Lexi: I know, I was so happy to write him asking her. And a wedding with lots of ale, that's a wedding Pippin would love to go to :) thanks for reviewing._

* * *

"You have to return his things, Lobelia," Primrose said. She and Bilbo had gone through most all of the hobbits in Hobbiton in the past two weeks, telling people of their betrothal as they went and bought back his things; words that made people gasp and smile and say of course they remembered what they had bought, and gladly they returned them for a small price. And they would leave both Bilbo and Primrose names of other hobbits who had purchased something at the auction. Within that short time they were able to collect almost all of this things that had been sold. All except what the Sacksville-Baggins' had bought.

"I made Bilbo an offer I would be willing to accept, and I will take no less," Lobelia said stubbornly turning up her chin.

Primrose caught herself before she rolled her eyes. "You cannot ask him to pay that much for his own things," she said reasonably. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Well I bought them fair and square," Lobelia argued, sticking her foot down.

_You awful, mean, batty old woman,_ is what Primrose wanted to say, what she almost said. But she knew unkindness would get her nothing, nothing but a bad reputation. And so she sighed heavily, looking to Lobelia and pulling out her last defense. "You told me he was dead."

Lobelia's confidence deflated as well as her resolve, for she had done that to the poor girl. With a sigh and an exaggerated groan she rose from her chair and waved her husband into the kitchen. Primrose nearly smiled in relief as the two decided on a fair price, and by the end of the day Primrose sat on Bilbo's sofa holding a cup of tea surrounded by the warmth of his now refurbished home. His mother's glory box, her pottery, and many more of the things that he had held dear of his parents Primrose and taken and returned; Bilbo sat happily beside her, having been return almost everything but his silverware, which he would never see again.

"Thank you," he said sipping his tea as he sat beside her. "I don't think I would have been returned half my things had you not helped."

She gave him a small smile, hardly a blush warming her cheeks any longer for he now spoke very easily with her; and several times a day he often told her of his love, never tiring of telling her, of the look in her eye before she'd kiss him. "I am sorry I let them take them," she said softly, putting her cup on the small table. "I shouldn't have,"

He silenced her with a hand on her cheek, his fingertips soft and light as he traced the planes of her face. "I should have written to you," he admitted. "Told you I was well and alright, that I would be home in a few short months. It is not your fault Prim."

She bowed her head smiling slightly, glad he did not blame her. She curled her legs under her and leaned against him, settling closer when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He found that there was a comfort in holding her, her head under his chin and her hand on his chest; his arms fit round her as though they had been made to, and there were days he truly wondered why he had not held her sooner.

"Have you thought of when you wish to wed?" he mumbled against her hair.

She smiled at the thought. "I would like to wed in the spring," she answered softly, listening to the quiet sounds of him breathing. "When all the flowers are blooming."

He pressed a kiss to her head, squeezing her tighter against him. "I'd like that," he said feeling her smile against his chest.

"Really?" she asked looking up at him, her eyes alight with joy.

"MmHm," he hummed before kissing her, his arms wrapped tight around her back holding her close and pulling her closer; his tongue just brave enough to dance slowly with hers. He did not know if it were the feel of her pressed so tight against him, of her hand clenching the collar of his shirt in her small fist, of her tongue against his, or of the sigh he felt her breathe at her contentment; but it had him pulling away, feeling things stirring in him that he knew he did not have the right to yet. "It is getting late," he said breathless, his cheeks blazing as he stood on shaky legs.

Primrose bit back a smile as she too got to her feet, smoothing the skirt of her dress out. "That it is, my mother will be expecting me. She has already started on my dress," she said sweetly, knowing what had made him so flustered.

"Has she?" Bilbo asked, feeling a warmth of happiness in his chest as he did everytime he thought of marrying her.

"Yes," Primrose answered as she followed him to the door, passing through as he held it open for her. "She is working on the bust," she said teasing.

Bilbo nodded looking at her as though he knew what that meant. "Oh," he breathed startled when he understood, his eyes trailing down to her breasts before he looked anywhere but at her. "I should get you home," he said before hurrying down his steps and to the gate, holding it open for her as well though she still stood on his stoop now nearly laughing. She enjoyed teasing him, watching his face redden and then as he fumbled for what to do; and he was so endearing when he tried to hide those feelings.

"You know you do not have to walk me all the way," she said as they walked together, her hand cradled in the crook of his arm.

"I enjoy walking with you," he told her simply, offering her a small smile. "Here you are," he said when they reached her gate, reluctant to return to his empty hobbit-hole.

She turned to him, a warm look in her eye. "Thank you for walking me home," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Soon you will be calling Bag End your home," he said, not even trying to keep the smile off his face. "And you will never leave me," he mumbled as he moved to kiss her.

She melted into him, loving when he spoke of it; the way his eyes shone with joy when he spoke of them being wed. "Spring is still so far away," she said when he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

He smiled as he looked into her eyes, seeing them alight with happiness, feeling her hands fiddling with his shirt as she looked at him. "I love you," he whispered, his voice a soft melody singing with the tune of the crickets chirping and the stars blinking above their heads. Her smile was beautiful, so lovely he wanted to simply wed her then.

There was nothing she loved more than to hear him say he loved her, after waiting so many years for him to finally say the words; and it simply set her heart to pounding with the purest of joy. "And I love you."

He opened her gate and let her step through before closing it, surprised when a moment later he felt her hands on his face as she kissed him. There were times like this when she dazed him with her passion, nearly causing his knees to buckle and him to fall over from the strength of her kiss. She bit her lip as she smiled before turning away and walking to her home, turning and waving before stepping inside.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the door closed, feeling a warmth flood through him as he made for his own hobbit-hole. A song in his heart and a skip in his step.


	11. Chapter 11

_Lexi: thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you liked last chapter. I think when we see Bilbo in Lord of the Rings, that's when the ring was really first starting to effect him; so I think he was fine up until then. Which Primrose will live to the normal lifespan of a hobbit so she will have died before then. So she won't actually see what the ring does to him._

* * *

Though spring was still many months away there was much to be done in preparation for their wedding. Primrose spent many hours standing still as her mother measured her, or fitted her in the part of her dress she was making. Though much of the time Primrose was bored, or trying her best not to move when her mother pricked her, she spent much of it lost in her thoughts; of the wedding, of the many things she still had left to do, of being Bilbo's wife - all of which made her smile softly in nothing but pure joy.

Bilbo himself had things to prepare, such as his home for he had lived alone for many years. His parent's bed, which had been in the room Bilbo kept for visitors, he moved into his room for him and Primrose would be sleeping together. A thought that made him blush a brilliant red even when he was alone, though it also sent a thrill through him. And he also made room for her as well - he got his mother's old dresser, the one with the beautiful carvings in the wood. He didn't think Primrose had ever seen it before, and he knew she'd love it. There were little things he did, some she noticed and others she would notice later - he bought a new chair specifically for her, and many days she sat beside him in her chair and sewed or knit something, normally for him. She made him a new handkerchief, he had lost the first on the adventure, and he sat beside her and watched as she stitched the pattern of his name - kissing the tips of her fingers when she'd finished.

"Will you be wearing what your father did when he married your mother?" she asked one night, curled against him on the sofa, relaxed and warm in his arms.

Bilbo nodded tiredly, the warmth of her against him and from the fire, and his belly full from the delicious meal she'd made; his eyes were growing heavier and comfort settled around him like a blanket.

"Bilbo?" he heard her ask softly.

"Hmm," he hummed, his eyes falling closed for the night.

She looked at his handsome face, brushing the hair out of his eyes and seeing he did not stir. She smiled before kissing him lightly, unwinding his arms and fetching a blanket for him. She kissed his cheek and nearly laughed at his small moan before leaving, quietly closing the door behind her.

...

"Good morning," Primrose said cheefully when Bilbo came to get her the next morning as he always did, where they would return to his hobbit-hole and he'd make them breakfast. "Did you sleep comfortably?" she asked teasing, seeing his bashful smile.

"Comfortably enough," he answered just as happily as he offered her his arm and walked with her to his home.

She busied herself with fetching the plates and cups and silverware, which Bilbo had had to buy an entirely new set, and set the table while Bilbo cooked. "So," Primrose began when they sat to eat, placing her napkin in her lap and looking at him, "you are wearing the clothes your father did on his wedding day."

"Yes," Bilbo answered, now remembering what they had been talking about when he'd fallen asleep. "Lobelia has offered to fit them to my size."

Her brows rose in surprise and she put her fork down. "Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins?" she asked, to which he nodded as he ate. "How ever did that happen?"

"Well," he said wiping his mouth with his napkin, "she stopped by a few days ago. Quite unexpectedly, actually."

...

_"Lobelia," Bilbo said startled when he opened the door to find it had been she who'd been knocking. "What a," he hesitated a moment, "pleasant surprise." _

_"MmHm," Lobelia hummed, disbelief on her face as she brushed past him and into his home. _

_Bilbo looked after her with wide eyes, having not planned to invite her into his home; and yet he was not the hobbit to ask her to leave. "Is there something you need?" he asked uncertainly, watching as her eyes heavily scrutinized every change that had been made. _

_"You are ready for her to live with you," she said nodding before she turned to him. "What do you plan to wear?" she asked simply, having no need to beat around any bush. _

_So taken by surprise was he that he stumbled over his words a few times before he finally said, "My father's clothes." _

_Lobelia nodded as she thought. "He was bigger than yourself, they will need to be fitted to you." She looked at him expectantly and he stared back not knowing what she wanted from him. She sighed grievously, rolling her eyes. "I suppose I could I do it," she said as though it were a hard task she was reluctantly being dragged into doing. "I will come by starting tomorrow and begin to fit them to you, Primrose should not be here. She should be surprise by how handsome you will look," she said, walking past Bilbo who was still standing by the door with his mouth open and his eyes wide. "Oh grief Bilbo Baggins, close your mouth or you'll catch a fly," she said as she walked down his steps and out his gate. _

_..._

"She just came into your home and said she would alter your father's clothes to fit you?"Primrose said almost laughing as she and Bilbo washed the dishes - both having finished breakfast as he told his story.

"Yes," Bilbo answered shaking his head amusedly, "just like that."

Primrose smiled as she washed the plate before handing it to Bilbo to dry, thinking perhaps Lobelia had offered as a means to right her wrong. "We should personally invite her and her husband to the wedding," she said after they'd finished.

"What?" Bilbo asked not seeing why they should, for Lobelia had been the one to tell Prim he was dead.

She smiled as she stepped closer, her arms winding around his waist. "She is helping you, we should return the kindness," she said looking up at him, the corners of her mouth curled as leaned forward to kiss him.

He melted into her embrace, willing to do anything so long as it was what she wanted. There was nothing he loved more than to kiss her, to feel her warm full lips pressed against his own; in more heated of moments to feel her tongue warring with his in the most wondrous of dances. But as always they pulled away, though neither of them truly wanted to, and they stood staring breathlessly at each other.

"You should ask her when she visits next," Primrose said as she smoothed out the wrinkles she'd put in his shirt, Bilbo's heart skipping a beat at the feel of her hands flat against his chest.

"She is coming before lunch," he said knowing that meant Prim would be leaving him earlier on this day, regretfully having to part from her.

She smiled before taking his hand. "Will you walk me home?" she asked sweetly; though in all honesty Bilbo could refuse her nothing. "Do not forget to ask her," she said when they stopped at her gate. "And make sure she feels as though we really want her to come,' she told him wondering if she should be the one to ask her.

"Prim," he said silencing her fluttering, "Stop worrying." She gave a small gasp when he grabbed her and pulled her to him, sighing into his kiss. "Will you come by later?" he mumbled against her lips.

"My mother is putting the final touches on my dress," she said looking up at him. "Perhaps I could sneak away for supper."

Bilbo smiled as he opened the gate for her and closed it when she was on the other side. "Only a few months to go," he said watching a smile spread on her lovely mouth.

"It seems so far away," she said softly, her fingers fiddling with his.

He pressed a kiss against her cheek. "In a few months you will be my wife," he said moving to kiss her other cheek, feeling her smile. "You will be mine," he said kissing the tip of her nose.

"And you will be mine," she finished, raising her chin to meet his kiss. He had taken to doing this weeks ago, when their wedding was close enough to grasp. They pulled away smiling, both light hearted as only two people in love could be. And waiting impatiently for the day they would wed.

* * *

_So next chapter will be their wedding, and the start of their new lives. I do not however, know what to do about more sexual things; to which I would need you guys' opinions. Would you like details, to which I would have to change the rating to M; should I make another story where all the "smut" would be; or should I just leave the details to the minimum and keep going how I have been? It is entirely up to majority, and I welcome any decision. Thanks for reading, and I hope you are still enjoying._


	12. Chapter 12

Primrose stood still as her mother fluttered around her, smoothing her dress, pushing a curl behind her ear, fitting the crown of flowers more in her hair, or simply trying not to cry. Primrose herself stood fiddling with her fingers as she breathed in and out. Her heart was a small drum in her chest, pounding to the beat of nervousness, and excitement. Her dress was beautiful, white with the lovely pattern her mother had spent months stitching. With most of her hair pinned back, adorned in her wondrous dress and crown of flowers, Primrose felt beautiful. She felt more nervous, as her mother said she would, though in all truth an excitement ran from her fingers and down to her toes. She had been waiting for this moment for years, and so she breathed in deeply a last time before exhaling and feeling the weight on her shoulders leave her.

Though Bilbo took deep breaths it did nothing to calm him, he was a bundle of raw nervousness that never ceased. He stood still as Lobelia inspected him, smoothing a wrinkle here and pulling on his pants a little there. And even when she stood back and nodded he could not keep from quivering. He supposed he was excited and fretted with anxious waiting, but he was simply jittery.

"Are you ready?" Lobelia asked him almost gently, impatience only slight in her voice.

Bilbo looked at her, hands still shaking, and nodded. "Yes," he said, his voice firm. And he was, for he had wanted to have Primrose as his wife since before he could remember. He stepped out of his hobbit-hole, waiting for Lobelia to join him before he closed the door; and they made their way to the party tree where all of Hobbiton had gathered. Looking at the joyous faces, remembering their whispers and their harsh looks only days before, he found that he did not like them all as much as he thought he had. And there was only one hobbit among them he would ever truly love, and she looked glorious as her father walked her to him; her dress was beautiful though not more than her with her hair pulled back and flowers crowning her head. Every ounce of anxiety left him at the sight of her, nothing but warmth and love remained.

Primrose smiled at Bilbo, her father releasing her and putting her hand in his; and Bilbo clasped her smaller hand in his and smiled in return. He looked so handsome, she thought as she looked at his brown trousers and green vest, a pattern stitched into it that very much resembled her dress. With her heart fluttering like the wings of a bird she turned to the man who was blessing them in their marriage, feeling Bilbo's thumb running along her hand.

The hobbits stood gathered around them, watching joyfully as the two were united in matrimony; clapping and smiling, a few women with tears in their eyes, as the two kissed for the first time as husband and wife. There was a smile spread wide on both Prim and Bilbo's faces when they pulled away, and so filled with bliss was he that he kissed Primrsoe again. She was the only thing his eyes saw; he did not see the hobbits smiling around him, did not see them clapping or wiping their eyes; he only saw her, as she only saw him.

Primrose turned from him with a smile, tossing her handful of flowers towards the women and watching them raise their hands and try to grab it. She did not see who caught them, instead she turned back to Bilbo - her husband - and kissed him again.

"I love you," he said smiling gently, his hand on her back as he held her; the hobbits around cheering and talking excitedly as they made their way to sit down to feast. She smiled, casting her eyes down briefly before looking back to him.

"I love you too."

Bilbo took her hand before leading her to the head table and sitting beside her, still holding her hand as though he needed it in order to live - and at that very moment he felt as though he did. They ate and they danced, and Primrose had taken a hold of his hand and pulled him after, leaving him no choice but follow her every move. He danced with her until they were breathless, returning to the table to drink their ale and to rest, basking in the wonder of being married.

"Congratulations," many hobbits told the two as the feast finished, the sun having set and the warm night air hovering around them. "We wish you both the best," "May you and your children be blessed," "It took you long enough to ask her Bilbo Baggins." These were the things they said as they bid farewell to the two.

"It was very lovely," Primrose said as they walked back to his hobbit-hole, Prim in his arms.

He smiled at her, surprised at how light she was as he carried her. "That it was," he said quietly. "You look beautiful," he told her, almost managing to keep himself from blushing.

Primrose smiled humbly, her arms wrapped around his neck as he carried her over the threshold and into what was now their home. It was this moment both had been anxiously awaiting, their chests tightening and breathing growing labored. It was then, gently with fumbling hands, that Bilbo took her for the first time as his wife.

...

Bilbo woke to the sun warm and golden on his skin, Primrose laying over his chest drawing patterns into his bare skin, her body lovely and bare against him. "Morning," he said, his voice thick in his throat, his hand running up her back.

Primrose sat up smiling, looking down at his handsome face. "Good morning," she said in return.

He returned her smile as he brushed her hair behind her ear, feeling her breasts soft against his side; it had surprised him their roundness, having never thought they'd amount to more than his hands could hold. But he loved them, because they were hers and he had never seen anything half so beautiful than she.

"Would you like me to make breakfast?" she asked with a small smile, feeling his fingers on her cheek.

"Hmm," he hummed, having a different want in mind. "We could have breakfast later," he said with a smile, watching her brows raise before she too smiled, a light in her eye as she kissed him. She laughed lightly when he rolled himself on top of her, her arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders as his hands wrapped around her hips.

It was many minutes before they finally left their room, the morning turning closer to noon, and Bilbo standing behind Primrose as she cooked. He could feel the heat from her skin through her thin sleeping gown as he stood with his arms wrapped around her waist, his nose pressed into her hair as he breathed in her sweet smell. He wanted nothing more than to spend the day laying with her in bed, their clothes forgotten on the floor. And after they ate that was exactly what they did.

* * *

_So now they're married, yay that took a while. I'm actually kind of happy with the way their love making turned out in this chapter, well how it didn't turn out cause I didn't give any details. But I thought their sex would probably be best kept behind closed doors, that way it could still be sweet and fluffy. After writing this chapter I'm surprisingly now on the fence on whether I want to make a separate story for smut, cause I had originally planned to do it. If you guys are still interested I definitely would cause I still have the idea in my head for their first time, or are you happy with the little bit I gave you here?_


	13. Chapter 13

"What do you think of this?"

Bilbo stood from his desk, where he had been writing a poem on the splendor of the old dwarf kingdom, and moved to stand beside his wife as she sat in her chair. "It's beautiful," he said looking at the vest she had made for him. It was a lovely yellow, more of a gold, and she was stitching a pattern with a royal red string. He looked down at her and smiled before kissing her. "I love it."

"Good," she said with a smile of her own. "You can wear it to the party next month."

Bilbo nearly choked as words were already making their way out of his mouth. "Absolutely not, I'm not going to the party," he refused, though it was a light refusal for they had had this conversation many times before and his resolve was waning.

Primrose gave him a small hopeful smile. "Please?" she asked sweetly, putting his almost finished vest aside to stand before him. "It would be the first time we have gone to a party as husband and wife," she said placing her hands on his chest, using the words she knew would melt his reluctant heart.

He sighed defeated, having never been able to refuse her, looking at her eyes and seeing she did truly want him to go with her. But he knew the way they would stare at him, the way they would whisper; it happened every time he stepped out of his home though Primrose had thankfully never seen it. It was one party, and she was looking at him so hopefully - how could he do anything but agree to go when he knew the beautiful smile that would grace her face and lead them to their bed.

Which was how a month later he found himself at the party tree wearing his new vest and drinking ale with the sound of laughter and cheer all around him. The feel of eyes, the barely hushed whispers; those were aimed at him. But he smiled and talked briefly with the hobbits around, seeing that Primrose was happily talking with a friend. He stood with his back strait, accepting the whispers and the looks as they were - cheap gossip that did not effect him. Though he wanted to be home, though he wanted to tell them all to mind their business, he stood and smiled pleasantly because Primrose had wanted him to come and he loved her.

"That was a nice party," Bilbo said as the two walked home, holding her hand in the crook of his elbow.

Primrose kept her eyes ahead of her, walking beside him rather troubled. "Yes it was," she answered softly, thankful he did not notice her sad mood; though he was not as cheerful as he had once been after a party either, and so she did not blame him.

It was many weeks before Bilbo noticed a change in her, when another party was being held for a birthday. "Are you sure you do not want to go?" he asked one night as they sat in the living room after super.

Primrose looked up from her knitting with brows raised, this having been the third time he'd asked her. "Do _you_ want to go?" she asked.

"Me? Goodness no, I don't seem to enjoy parties quite like I used to," he said nearly stuttering as he tried to explained. "Staying home is fine indeed, but you do not have to stay on my account."

She smiled at him softly. "Alright," she assured, "but I am still not going."

His brows furrowed as he stared at her face, seeing her stare had returned to her needles and yarn. "Why do you not want to?" he asked gently, a thought striking him.

Primrose sighed and shook her head, brushing aside his worries. "It's nothing, I simply do not wish to," she answered, hearing the falsity behind her words even as she spoke them.

Seeing her face, seeing her eyes, Bilbo understood that she had seen the way the others had treated him. "Oh Prim," he said softly, feeling guilty that he was the reason why she wouldn't go. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" she asked shrugging. "Being the hobbit I fell in love with? No, Bilbo," she said shaking her head, "it isn't you." She placed her hand on his cheek, smiling when he covered it with his own. "Doing what you love doesn't always mean doing what people love you for. But know,Bilbo Baggins," she said moving closer to him as she cupped his face, "that I will always love you."

He smiled as he raised his chin to find her lips. "How ever did I find you?" he mumbled against her mouth, feeling her lips curl into a smile.

"You jumped out of a bush and scared me," she said laughing at the memory of when she'd first met Bilbo; she'd been so young then.

He chuckled as he too remembered. "Most girls would have cried, you tackled me to the ground," he laughed. "I think that may have been the moment I knew I'd love you forever."

She smiled bashfully as she set her knitting aside, feeling him wrap a curl around his finger. "Are you planning to take me to bed, Master Baggins?" she asked coyly, watching a mischievious grin splay on his face.

"Why yes, Mistress Baggins, that is exactly what I plan," he said as he pulled her into arms and carried her, her sweet laughter filling their hobbit-hole. "We'll have our own party," he mumbled as he kissed her. And barely a moment later he threw her on the bed.

* * *

_There have been a few people, actually quite a few, who expressed concerns over how the ring will effect their life together; so I figured I should tell you all in case others are worrying too. When we first see Bilbo in LOTR is when the ring first starts effecting him, so it doesn't really show up during their marriage. So I will promise you all, they will be happy. Also, I'm not sure how much more there is for me to write about them - so I think I'll have a few more chapters of things they face in married life how they overcome it, cuteness and love and fluff; and then I guess I'll end it. And one last thing: I tried to write a smut chapter for the two and I got to where they would do it, but I couldn't do it. I just feel like those are private times, and should be kept brief and small. I hope that doesn't upset anyone too greatly, but just know that I did try._


End file.
